


Starboy and Sugartits: A Love Story

by olddarkmachine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comedy, Drinking, Fluff, Gay Bar, LANCE AND SHIRO BROTP YALL OMG THEIR FRIENDSHIP WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE?!, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pole Dancing, i mean technically mutual lol you just don't see keith's as much, so technically i guess this would be rated t for teen, that's about as far as they get in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 18:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12195297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olddarkmachine/pseuds/olddarkmachine
Summary: Welcome to Voltron, the best little gay bar on the Garrison strip where the drinks are cheap and the entertainment is expensive.Shiro needed a job, and his best friend Lance knew of a bar looking for a bartender just like him.What Shiro hadn’t planned on, was the Starboy that worked there who would end up dancing away with his heart.AKA the one where Shiro is trying out to be a bartender and Keith is a pole dancer.





	Starboy and Sugartits: A Love Story

**Author's Note:**

> This was born of a weekend at Dallas Pride, an 11 hour drive by myself, and three Monster energy drinks. 
> 
> Pro tip: Throw on some Galantis tunes to set the mood.
> 
> EDIT: I can't believe I forgot to add this but OMG LOOK AT THIS [ART MAXXDOODS](https://theolddarkmachine.tumblr.com/post/176866586342/maxxdoods-practicing-poses-with-keith-heavily) DID FOR THIS I'M STILL CRYING TT.TT

_You’re a fine specimen looking for a job, and we’re looking for a hot, flaming bartender. Honestly, Shiro, my man. You were born to work at Voltron._

Lance’s words echoed through Shiro’s mind as he stood in front of the bar in the middle of the afternoon, wondering if he might be able to back out of the interview his best friend had setup for him. Sorry, not just any bar.  _Garrison strip’s number one gay bar where you come for cheap booze and expensive entertainment_ , Lance’s voice annoyingly corrected him.

He’d known the lanky 20-something since he’d moved to the neighborhood when he was four and his mothers had setup a playdate with Shiro’s mom. The first meeting had ended with Lance crying after the then seven-year-old Shiro had clamped a hand over the boy’s mouth in an attempt to get him to stop talking.

Now that he thought about it, not much had changed aside from the fact that now Lance would just lick his hand in retaliation and continue on whatever verbal tirade he’d been on. Shiro sighed loudly as he scrubbed the metal of his prosthetic hand down his face, enjoying the way the coolness of it felt against his sun-kissed skin. He’d only been standing outside for about 15 minutes waiting for his best friend, but in the heat of the desert, 15 minutes felt like an eternity as sweat had blossomed at the back of his neck. With a quick glance at his watch, Shiro decided Lance had approximately five minutes to get there before he would head back to his loft, strip back down to his boxers and continue binging the Real World.

“Only grandpas still wear watches,” the snarking voice that haunted his dreams called from behind him as if the universe had summoned him merely for having the thought.

**Universe- 1, Shiro- 0.**

Turning on his heel, he shot Lance a bright smile, ignoring the tightness that tugged at the corners of it and making it feel a little less than genuine. The 24-year-old was dressed in a plain blue v-neck and jeans that hugged low on his hips. His brown hair fell across his eyebrows and over his blue eyes that danced with a glee that never seemed to run out. It was that same unadulterated joy that made him look so much younger and often got him carded when he wasn’t the one serving the alcohol.

_I’m the reason they came up with the term ‘twink,’ Shiro, and I plan on riding out that title until it no longer earns me such stellar tips._

“Well I’m sure the best little gay bar in the Garrison wouldn’t want any grandfather’s working here, so I guess that means I’ll just take my leave.”

Crystalline eyes side eyed him as his best friend raked a hand through his brunette hair before shaking his head with a low chuckle.

“We don’t want grandfathers, but we’ll always take a daddy.” Lance shot him an expert wink before blowing him a kiss, earning a loud groan from Shiro. He hated the term ‘daddy’ and Lance knew it. Reveled in the discomfort it caused him, actually. At one point he’d proudly proclaimed that he’d changed Shiro’s name in his phone to it, which lasted as long as it had taken for him to wrestle the device from his friend’s hands. It was all fun and games until the guys you were hooking up with were drunkenly calling to talk about the daddy issues they had that the name had dredged up when they’d seen it in their call logs. Shiro shuddered at the memory. A hand cupped his bicep as Lance grabbed onto his arm and started dragging him to the blacked out doors with Voltron embossed across them in rainbow colors.

The cold wall of air conditioning hit him with the full force of sweet relief as soon as they crossed the threshold into the bar. The dance floor sparkled with glittered tile and four shining metal poles marked each corner of it with their gleaming metallic shine. Two more raised pedestals with poles sat on the other side of the bar, standing before a handful of tables and stools as if prepared for a show. The bar itself was modest in size and painted black with glittering tinsel and fairy lights adorning its exterior. Behind it stood a glistening wall of alcohol that would be any mixologist’s wet dream.

There was something inherently wrong about seeing bars during the day with the lights on. In the middle of the day with the fluorescents on, Voltron was Cinderella’s carriage at midnight when it returned to its pumpkin form.

“Welcome, to Voltron,” Lance said letting go of Shiro’s arm so he could gesture towards the scene that laid before them. “Where-”

“The booze is cheap and the entertainment is expensive,” he deadpanned, finishing the tagline he’d heard repeated to him more often than he’d care to admit. If he didn’t think he’d have been killed by alcohol poisoning, he would have taken a shot for each time Lance had said that line to him in an attempt to get him out to the establishment.

“See, you’re perfect for the job.” The smaller man laughed as he threw his arm around Shiro’s shoulders and hugged him close. His cologne filled his friend’s nostrils and made his eyes water before he pushed away and sneezed.

“Bless you,” an accented female voice said from behind them. “This must be the infamous Shiro.” The pair turned towards the voice, Shiro taking in the woman that could only be the owner of Voltron. Her skin was deeply tanned and only looked darker next to the shimmering near white blonde of her hair. Aquamarine eyes appraised Shiro as her bright pink lipstick colored lips pulled across her gleaming teeth in a welcoming smile. Chunky glitter accented her high cheekbones and matched the pastel coloring of her flowing crop top and torn boyfriend jeans. She looked otherworldly standing in the middle of the deserted bar and Shiro wasn’t entirely certain she didn’t belong in space amongst the stars instead of the middle of an empty dance floor.

“I’m not sure what stories Lance has been telling you, but I can assure almost none of them are true,” he said as he offered her his hand. As she took it in a strong handshake, he noticed the glitter moons that were painted onto her pointed, pink acrylic nails. Her laugh filled the space around them with the sound of tinkling bells.

“It’s so good to finally meet you,” she said. “I’m Allura, though I’m sure you’ve also heard a tale or two from Lance.” Allura paused and leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially to him as she dropped him a quick wink.

“Except almost all of mine are true.”

Heat rose to his cheeks as he remembered a particular story involving Allura starting a mass body shot circle amongst the patrons of the bar. Her twinkling laugh dispelled the vision he could imagine in near perfect detail thanks to the vivid retelling from his friend.

“You were right, Lance,” her voice dragged the “a” of his name out to an “ah” sound. “He will definitely get us some good business.”

“Prime daddy, amirite?” Lance replied ignoring Shiro’s protest as he spoke about him as if he wasn’t there. “He’ll definitely add a bit of beef to our current lineup.”

The topic of their conversation watched helplessly as Allura nodded in agreement, her eyes dragging over his frame again. He suddenly felt very exposed in their company.

“Any interest in dancing?” She asked him. The question caught him by surprise and he nearly choked on his own shock. Lance danced occasionally, he’d known that much. In fact, the first time he’d danced he’d woken Shiro in the middle of the night with a phone call to brag about how much money he’d made in tips because of it.

_Who knew pulling money from your skivvies would be so satisfying._

He hadn’t considered doing it himself though. To be honest, if he needed to dance he might as well just leave right there. Dancing had never been one of his strong suits, and he certainly didn’t want to kill what little sex appeal he did have by revealing that fact in front of the bars patrons while wearing hot shorts. His grey eyes swam with fear as he eyed one of the poles by the bar as if sizing it up. Allura’s hand rubbed reassuringly against his bicep.

“Don’t worry, Shiro, it isn’t required. Just something to consider if you want to. I am looking for a full time bartender so it is no loss at all if you don’t.” There wasn’t a trace of insincerity in her voice as she fixed him with another smile. Suddenly, Shiro understood what Lance had meant when he’d told him that Voltron was a family. With Allura at the helm as the matriarch, he couldn’t imagine how anyone could do anything but follow her with reverence.

He listened intently as she outlined what type of person she was looking for to help run her bar and answered when she randomly shot off drink names for him to verbally make. After listing off the ingredients for a Fog Cutter– orange and lemon juice, orgeat, white rum, gin, brandy and sherry– she clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“I think you’d be a great fit, Shiro,” Allura beamed up at him. “If you’d like to stay to try out the shift tonight, I’d love to have you.”

A vision of the night he would have had otherwise flitted across his mind’s eye. If he said no, he could return to the comfort of his loft and his plush couch with a beer and trashy reality TV to keep him company. He’d grown accustomed to the nights spent alone, wallowing in self loathing and pity over the accident that had caused him to lose his arm. Lance had been his only contact with the outside world aside from E! News and his physical therapist for so long, he was almost scared to be out in it. But as he took in Allura’s welcoming smile and the excited grin of his best friend standing behind her and shooting him a thumbs up, he felt as if he was where he was meant to be. After casting one more sweeping glance over the empty bar, he returned the owner’s smile.

“Yeah, I’d like that too.”

***

After agreeing to stay for the night, Allura had turned Shiro over to Lance with strict orders to show him the ropes.

“If you need anything and Lance isn’t fulfilling his duties as mentor, I’ll be around,” she’d said before disappearing through a door that read  **Employees Only, Trespassers Will Be Shot**  in thick red glittered warning letters. Lance only offered a shrug when he saw Shiro’s quizzical look before turning to the bar that would be their home for the remainder of the night. As they went about setting up the bar, a few more employees trickled in, all disappearing behind the same door as Voltron’s fearless owner before Shiro could get a good look at them.

“You already know how to bartend,” Lance said as he wiped down the counter of any leftover residue from the night before. His eyebrows knit together as he started to work on a particularly sticky spot that he vaguely remembered to be a jello shot gone wrong.

“Don’t really need to fill you in on that, unless you’ve forgotten everything since you’re out of practice.”

Shiro was aware it a small jab at the hermit lifestyle he’d adopted in the two years since the accident.

_Settlement money is only going to support you for so long, Shiro._

Ignoring the taunt, he just nodded in agreement.

“I think I got it. And if I start floundering I’ll just adopt the Lance Method and give them enough booze that they’ll forget what they wanted in the first place.”

Crinkles formed at the corners of his best friend’s eyes as he wheezed at the comment, not even bothering to deny that it was something he employed when in a pinch. Most partiers didn’t care what drinkable form of gasoline they consumed as long as they got the side effects. To this day, he still hadn’t had any complaints. Lance began to fish under the counter and pulled out a stack of glasses and a clean dish rag before handing them to his friend. Shiro grabbed the rag and a glass and started wiping it down of any leftover marks from the industrial dishwasher they’d been sanitized in.

“Things will be dead when we open in thirty aside from the older generation that can’t hang all too late, and the smart ones that know about the $2 drinks before 11pm,” he explained as he grabbed his own rag and glass.

“It won’t be until about ten that things will start picking up and then after that it’ll be like feeding time at the zoo.”

The analogy earned him a loud bark of laughter and Lance preened at the sound, living to be the center of attention and make people laugh. He had been voted Class Clown in high school and he’d prided himself on being able to cheer up even the most sour of pusses. The pair continued to rub down glasses and share conversation about Voltron and what to expect from a typical Saturday night. As the overhead lights went down, the spinning colored lights of the luminaire turned on, marking the opening of the doors and the beginning of Shiro’s tryout.

The employees that had disappeared out of sight resurfaced in various positions around the bar as stock bar music filled the air. Cinderella’s pumpkin started to look like a carriage again as a couple stragglers walked in through the front door. After mixing together a Sex on the Beach, a Golden Cadillac and one very boring vodka tonic, he started to survey the other Voltron employees.

“The little one up in the booth with the glasses?” Lance said as he noticed Shiro’s wondering gaze and gestured to a small figure on top of a half hidden pedestal on the opposite side of the bar. A halo of tawny hair stood around her head and large glasses that looked like they belonged in the early-90s were propped on her nose. She was wearing a large green hoodie that swallowed her and made her look even younger than the 15 that she already looked. Leaning into a laptop that was balanced on the edge of the platform she was on, the light illuminated her childish features.

“Is she even old enough to be in here?” Shiro asked as he watched her fingers fly across the keyboard. Lance nodded to confirm that they didn’t have a minor amongst them no matter how much she looked like it.

“That’s Pidge. Believe it or not, she’s 22,” he laughed as Shiro did a double take.

“It isn’t  a club given name like everyone else, she wants to be called that on her own free will. Why? No one knows, but we guess she likes the androgyny of it all.” They both watched as she stabbed an overzealous finger into the keyboard that coincided with a heavy crash of bass.

“Not to mention it sounds way more EDM than Katie.”

Pidge lifted a pair of large headphones from somewhere beneath where the laptop sat and she plugged it into the system also hidden from his view. With a small, serene smile, she pulled the cups of the headset over her ears and started to fiddle with the system. The music became more electronic and soon his entire body was thrumming with the bass. A small tap pulled his attention away from the DJ and back to his friend, who quickly tipped his head to the side of the bar. More people had trickled in while they’d been talking and started to form a semi circle around a dancer that stood on top of a table in the corner.

“That hunk of burning love grinding on that table in the corner, is Hunk. Which, you already knew. But I just wanted to make sure you saw how lucky that table was right now.” Lance’s voice turned wistful as he watched his boyfriend grind his yellow spandex clad hips against the surface of the table while a gaggle of onlookers fought each other to be the first to stuff ones down his shorts.

He and Hunk had been together for almost five years, and Shiro almost couldn’t remember a time when they were separate entities. They’d become one of those couples that you referred to as “Lance and Hunk” or “Hunk and Lance,” and if one was gone, it almost felt as if the other was suddenly missing a limb. He watched as Hunk leant closer to one of the spectators, fixing him with a sinful grin before grabbing the money from his fingers with his teeth. With the bill still held between his lips, he bucked his hips into the table again as he looked up to catch Lance’s eye with a wink. A strangled sound erupted from his throat.

“Man, do I wish I was that table.”

A timid looking man walked up to the counter, clutching his credit card in his hand as he dragged his eyes up and down over Shiro’s form. He offered him a smile and asked what he’d be drinking.

“C-could I ask for a tall drink of water?” The man asked, stuttering over his pickup line. Lance quickly dipped below the counter in an attempt to hide his laughter as Shiro’s cheeks grew impossibly hot. A beat passed between them before he slipped into his ‘panty dropping’ smile– so dubbed by his hidden friend– and grabbed a glass from the counter.

“How about I fix you an Orgasm?” He asked, laying it on thick as he began to pour together vodka, Bailey’s and Kahlua over ice. Popping the metal shaker over the glass, he began to shake the drink together, very aware of the way the man’s eyes drank in the sight of his biceps straining against the cuff of his t-shirt. With a quick flourish, he pulled the cups apart and set the Orgasm on the table before him.

“That will be $2.” The man silently handed him his card. Quickly ringing up the drink, Shiro turned back to him with his receipt, handing back the card with a pen. Smiling up at him, the man scribbled across the paper before dropping the pen down, grabbing his drink, and heading towards the crowd that had grown around Hunk. Loud wheezing noises erupted at his feet as Lance finally let loose the laughter he’d been trying to hold back.

“I am equal parts horrified and impressed, my friend,” he said through tears as he dragged himself from below the counter. “I told you. Made for this job.” As Lance wiped away the tears from his eyes, Shiro grabbed the receipt, his heart jolting as he saw the $50 written onto the tip line. A low whistle tickled his ear as the younger man peered over his shoulder at the ticket.

“Being a daddy pays.”

Lance dodged as he attempted to punch at his friend’s shoulder, dancing just out of reach with a quick peek of his tongue between his teeth. Placing the receipt into the money drawer, Shiro picked up another cup and his rag, absentmindedly rubbing at the glass.

“So what do they call you?” He asked, returning to their previous conversation, cocking an eyebrow at his best friend who was now resting his top half against the bar. The brunette shot him a devilish smile.

“They call me Sharpshooter.” Lance’s voice as full of innuendo that was lost on his best friend. His grey eyes were blank as he waited for an explanation that never came.

“Why Sharpshooter?” He finally deadpanned when he realized his friend wasn’t planning on elaborating without provocation. The answering smile was so wicked, he regretted his decision to ask immediately.

“Because I have such great aim.” With a wink and a blown kiss, Lance made a quick shake of his fist in the most halfhearted attempt of a wanking gesture Shiro had ever seen. Blanching at the vision of the brunette using any sort of aiming skills, he set the glass he’d been giving his attention to and leaned a hip against the bar to fully face him.

“What would you guys call me?” Shiro asked, looking down at his metal arm, stretching out his hand as wide as it would go before squeezing it shut into a tight fist. Though he’d grown used to it and had full function of it, it was still disconcerting sometimes to see silvery metal in place of his tanned skin. “Cyborg?”

A fist thumped against his shoulder with no real malice behind it. Lance’s blue eyes were filled with all the things they’d left unsaid. He had known the rut Shiro had ended up in after the accident, and he’d been there the entire time, gently coaxing him back into his life at first before settling for dragging him back kicking and screaming. It had been a battle, but as he looked at Shiro now with the lasers dancing across his skin, he couldn’t help but feel like it had been worth it.

“Self deprecating doesn’t suit you, my man,” Lance said in a mock stern tone with a finger wag. “Besides, why go with Cyborg when you would definitely be a Sugartits. Have you seen your pectorals lately?”Grabbing for the muscle that laid beneath Shiro’s grey shirt, Lance wolf whistled as his hands grabbed onto him.

“Has anyone told you about our lord and saviors, Shiro’s Right Titty and Shiro’s Left Titty?” He laughed as his victim swatted at his hands and pulled away.

“They’re names are Zan and Jayna, thank you,” Shiro said with a straight face, fixing Lance with a daring stare. A beat passed before he took the bait.

“What the fuck, Shiro, why Zan and Jayna?”

“Because they’re the Wonder Twins.” His composure broke before he could even finish the sentence, barely able to get the words out around his laughter. Dropping himself onto a bar stool, he wheezed through his mirth. As he struggled to catch his breath, the music changed, dipping out for a strong guitar riff that slowly crescendoed with a heavy drum and then an electric beat. Loud cheers erupted from behind them as the music hit its peak.

“And for the last on our roster,” Lance said, lifting his chin in the direction of a dancer behind him. “We refer to that one as Starboy.”

As Shiro turned to see who had been christened a popular song, he felt his lungs seize up again. Hanging from the top of one of the shiny poles in the middle of the dance floor, suspended by only one leg that had been expertly folded around the metal, was the single most beautiful human being he had ever seen. Onyx hair framed his face and fell a little long at the nape of his neck, creating a veil over his eyes as he grabbed the pole with both hands to change his position so that he was straddling it with his legs in a full middle split. The dancer’s bright red hot shorts left very little to the imagination, and yet Shiro couldn’t help but imagine anyway. Criss crossing down the entirety of his right leg was an elastic that held several dollar bills against his skin. If time stood still and he was trapped breathless with the sight of Starboy straddling that pole forever, Shiro was certain he would be fine. He silently thanked the universe for settling their score.

“Is it because he’s out of this world?” He heard himself say, his voice breathless as if he’d just run a mile. Hell, even his heart beat as if he had. Lance’s sharp laugh broke the time freeze and Starboy started to slowly slide down the pole as he surveyed his crowd with a smile handcrafted by the gods themselves.

“Put your tongue back in your mouth, Shiro, I’m scared you’ll drool all over the counter and I don’t want to clean it up,” his best friend said with a quick tap of his knuckle against Shiro’s chin. “We call him Starboy because he’s so far above everyone else, metaphorically, and sometimes physically as you just saw.”

“And does Starboy have a real name?”

“Keith.” The answer was light with a hint of laughter. And it didn’t come from Lance. Shiro felt his stomach flip as it attempted to tear itself from his body. He tried to remind himself that between him and Lance, he was the calm, cool and collected one. Instead, he wheezed, spun his bar stool too quickly, and promptly fell face first into a well toned and glittered chest.

When Shiro had awoken that morning with the right side of his hair pushed up and standing on end and drool crusting on the skin of his chin, he didn’t think he’d find himself in the presence of the most attractive man he’d ever seen. He certainly didn’t foresee himself pressed against that attractive man and enjoying the planes of his sculpted chest with his cheek. The low rumble of a chuckle echoed through the dancer’s body as he gently placed a hand on either of Shiro’s shoulders and pushed him back off of him.

“Usually I’d want dinner first,” he said as he smiled down at the awestruck bartender. Up close, Shiro could see the purple crushed velvet color of his eyes and wondered if anyone had ever discovered the exact shade of mauve that made up his irises before.

“You can drop the act, Starboy, he’s trying out to be the new bartender.” The bartender in question was barely aware of his best friend’s sarcastic voice as he tried to connect the freckles that dotted the bridge of Keith’s nose into constellations. A discernible change came over the dancer, and as if he had shed some sort of skin, he suddenly seemed more human. The smile he wore crinkled the edges of his eyes as he took his hands from Shiro’s shoulders and offered him his right hand instead.

“That’s a bit of a relief actually,” he said, amethyst eyes appraising him as he took his hand with a firm handshake. If he noticed the cold metal of Shiro’s arm in his warm, flesh one, he didn’t make any certain acknowledgement of it. “You deserve a proper introduction than. I’m Keith.”

“I’m Shiro,” he replied, his voice breathy even to his own ears.

“Shiro,” Keith said, the name rolling off his tongue in a soft caress. Hearing his name in the dancer’s voice felt like hearing it for the first time. His heart stuttered at the sound. “I like that.”

Their fingers lingered in the handshake, Keith dragging his down the slope of Shiro’s as they pulled apart. He’d never thought he’d be so thankful for the sensors in his prosthetic that allowed him to still feel with the metal limb, but as the man’s soft touch drew lines of fire down his fingers he found himself silently thanking the doctor that had made that medical breakthrough.

“So what do you think of Voltron?” He asked as he leant onto the counter, one sharp hip jutting out. Shiro wondered what it would be like to bite the bone that stood just next to the V of his abs. The soft clink of a glass against the counter pulled his attention back from his sinful thoughts as Keith grabbed the glass of water Lance had set down for him.

“He’s already got his first big tip!” Lance’s voice brimmed with pride as he pushed himself onto the bar so he laid across it to be included in their conversation. “Fifty bucks on a $2 Orgasm. I like to call that the Daddy Effect.” Shiro bit back the moan as Keith laughed.

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled under his breath, avoiding the twin jewel toned stares.

“Not a big fan of the daddy craze, huh?” The dancer asked, genuine curiosity alight in his eyes. He shrugged at the question trying to figure out exactly how to put into words why the term made him uncomfortable without going into a psychoanalysis about how the term was rooted in major daddy issues.

“Just isn’t my favorite term, I guess.” It was a lame answer, but Keith accepted it as he took another swig of his water, effectively finishing off the liquid in two quick gulps. The ice crashed around in the glass as he dropped it back onto the counter and turned his attention back to Shiro. With his eyes fixed on him, the mauve dancing with gentle interest, he lifted his hand to push the white forelock off Shiro’s forehead and out of his eyes. The touch was feather light and cool from where his skin had gathered cool condensation from the water glass. Keith’s lips parted as he dragged in a steadying breath as he watched the bartender’s eyes flutter at the contact. Electricity filled the space between them as the air grew heavy and the music seemed to fade away. Grey met amethyst as they held each other’s gazes, both daring the other to look away first.

“–out time to go back, right?” Lance’s voice shattered the glass around them, causing the static feeling to dissipate as the music crashed around them again like a wave. Keith dropped his hand down to his side and smiled at them both.

“Yeah, my adoring public needs me,” he said with a laugh, nodding a head towards the growing crowd that was filling the floor and the group that was heading towards the bar. Just as before, the bartenders watched as he settled back into his dancer persona. He stood a little straighter and a playboy pout accentuated his mouth.

“I’ll see ya later, Shiro.”

He watched as Keith walked away, red spandex clad hips swaying as he returned to his pole and crowd. The dancer stopped a few feet from the pole and raised his arms above his head, looking back at Shiro just long enough to make sure he was watching, before he threw himself forward so he was standing on his hands. His feet pressed against the pole for extra balance as he gyrated to the music. A squealing woman with a a crown and a sash that proudly proclaimed **BRIDE**  across it ran up to him and shoved a handful of dollars into the elastic that stretched across his thigh.

Shiro felt himself swallow hard as Keith dropped his legs outwards in an upside down split before he lowered his feet to the ground and then pushed himself up to standing. A fist thumped against his shoulder as he continued to stare as the dancer hopped onto the pole and pulled himself to the top. The lights danced across the glitter on his skin and in that moment he could swear the reason for his nickname hadn’t been because he was a distant, untouchable entity, but because he was composed entirely of starlight.

It wasn’t until a hand waved in front of his face that his trance was broken. When he turned to Lance, he saw his friend’s eyebrow shooting upwards towards the heavens as a shit eating grin split his face in two.

“Yeah,” his voice was bright with all knowing laughter. “He has that effect on people.”

***

“Porchcrawler, please gorgeous.”

_Beer, vodka, gin, lemonade._

“Fluffy Critter!”

_White rum, lime juice, lemonade and strawberry sauce._

“Dirty White Mother, much like my own.”

_Brandy, Kahlua and cream._

“Tequila Sunrise and a tiny taste of fine ass bartender.”

_Tequila, orange juice, grenadine and the single most awkward kiss on the cheek Shiro had ever received._

“How about we Link Up?”

_A quick shake of the head, whiskey, vodka and lime juice._

Things had picked up at Voltron as much as Lance had forewarned, and the patrons were seriously testing his knowledge of obscure drinks and his flirting capabilities. It didn’t help that most of his attention remained up in the clouds with the glittered god twisting around a pole on the dance floor. As alcohol gave the bar goers more courage, their advances grew more bold, as did the amount they would write on the tip line of their receipts. His heart sputtered with each increased number he received before he would tuck it away with the growing stack in the cash drawer.

A small part of him felt bad, knowing that many of the patrons would wake in the morning with far less in their bank accounts and only a nasty hangover to show for it. Lance’s voice in his head chased the thoughts away almost immediately.

_Think of it this way, part of the fun is spending money on someone so attractive. You’re doing them a favor._

There was a lull as the bar’s prices went back to full price, though at $5 a drink, it still felt as if they were offering happy hour prices. Leaning an elbow on the counter so he could prop his chin on the palm of his hand, he let his eyes wonder over the taut muscles of the dancer on the floor. Keith’s crowd had been relentless since he’d returned to his post after his quick water break a couple hours beforehand and they’d filled the elastic stretched across his skin and of his hot shorts with ones multiple times. Each time, he would sashay away from them with a wink before disappearing behind the Employees Only door only to return shortly after with a clean slate. Shiro would drink him in as he walked back, his hips swaying in time with the music in an animalistic stalk that caused a dull fire to spread low within his stomach. Each time he would make his way back to his crowd, his purple eyes would flicker towards the bartender, dancing with the lights of the bar and a blaze that would still the breath in his throat.

“I’m too young to witness this kind of eye fucking,” Lance’s words tickled the back of his ear, effectively causing Shiro’s heart to hit the roof of his mouth as he jumped out of his own skin. A bark of laughter behind him signaled that they’d been joined by none other than his best friend’s boyfriend. He turned to the duo and fixing them with his angriest glare and a hint of pout. Hunk stifled another laugh as he immediately compared the look to that of a puppy that’d just been caught chewing on a roll of toilet paper. Guilty, yet not entirely sorry and not promising to never do it again.

“Oh man, he’s under the spell,” the dancer said as he wrapped his arms around Lance’s middle and set his chin on his shoulder as he peered at Shiro. “RIP Shiro. Cause of death: Pulled into space by a Starboy with no helmet. He never stood a chance.” Hunk’s head bobbed with the laughter that racked through his boyfriend’s body at their friend’s expense. A dazzling smile pulled the corners of his mouth up as he turned to press a kiss into the man’s cheek before he pulled away and reached for a glass.

“Very funny, you guys, I’m just tired. It’s been a long time since I’ve been out this late,” Shiro said dryly as he watched the two as they orbited around each other. A strange phenomena always occurred whenever Hunk and Lance were around each other, in which they adopted a strange gravity. Without seeming to even realize it the pair would move with each other, as one moved to the left, the other would subconsciously move left as well. They’d mirror each other as if held together by an invisible thread and often time would even make the same gestures, not once realizing they’d done so until someone pointed it out. He’d always wondered what it would feel like to be so completely devoted to someone that you’d meld together into a natural sync. At the thought, his steel eyes flickered to the dance floor, catching amethyst across the room again before he turned his attention back to his friends.

“Tired, he says,” Lance said as he absentmindedly sprayed water from the soda gun into Hunk’s glass, eyes never leaving Shiro as he did so. “I don’t think I’ve been so tired I’ve undressed someone with my eyes each time they walked by.” His boyfriend snorted into his water at the remark before joining in.

“To be fair, Lance undresses me with his eyes always, so it isn’t his best argument.”

Shiro rolled his eyes as he busied himself with setting up more glasses for the next round of patrons he could see eyeing the bar. Anything to keep his gaze from meeting the purple one he could feel burning into his chest.

“I hate you guys, and I’m not even sure why we’re still friends,” he mumbled. A large hand landed on his shoulder as Hunk pulled him into his side and ruffled his hair, mussing his white bangs across his face.

“Because I’m half the reason you didn’t starve to death the past couple of years, and unfortunately we come as a packaged deal.” Shiro’s arm stuck to Hunk’s skin that was slick with sweat and glitter. Up close, he could see the sharp line of the square of his jaw where a faint purple mark of a bite mark stood out against his tan skin. As he pushed himself out of Hunk’s hold, he ran his fingers through his hair until his forelock laid over his brow in the casual disarray he’d worked so hard to achieve. Hunk’s cooking skills were legendary and if he didn’t love putting on a show, he would actually make a great chef, something Shiro had reminded him numerous times.

_If I didn’t like dancing on the tables more than putting food on them, I totally would._

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear the word unfortunately just now,” Lance said, his tone colored with faux offense as he spritzed them both with the soda gun. The dancer spun to face his boyfriend and looped two fingers through his belt loops to pull him towards him for a kiss. Shiro averted his eyes, the dull thrum of jealousy prickling the back of his neck as his gaze landed on Keith once again.

His raven hair looked like an oil slick as the colored lights highlighted it in a gleam of purples, pinks and blues. The way he moved was as smooth as smoke as he twisted around the shining metal. With one hand holding onto the pole, he leaned into it, lifting his leg up behind him and pulling it upwards behind his head with his other hand. White teeth glowed as he smiled at the bartender across from him and dragged the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip. The air around him grew thick as he felt an electric pull just behind his belly button as Keith dropped his leg, using the momentum to flip himself so he was upside on the pole. It looked as if he’d defied physics themselves and for a moment, Shiro wondered if gravity had different rules for the Starboy. Though he was performing for the crowd that surrounded him, the dancer’s violet gaze never left his silver one as he contorted himself around the pole. Spinning in the air, it looked more to Shiro like he was flying. He reminded himself to breathe as Keith winked, effectively raising the temperature of the room a few degrees.

The sharp staccato sound of someone clearing their throat pulled his attention away back to Earth and to the unpleasant scowl of the man standing in front of the bar. A quick sweep of the area around him revealed that Lance was nowhere to be found.

“Sorry about that,” he said, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “What can I get you?” Putting his hands on top of the counter to lift himself up, the man leaned in close to Shiro’s face. The harsh smell of alcohol on the man’s breath made him blanch and pull back.

“How much for you?” His words slurred slightly at their edges, making them sound doughy. Though he wasn’t the first to hit on him that night, something about the way he stared at him made Shiro’s skin crawl. Pushing back further, he attempted a smile that felt as fake as he was sure it looked.

“Unfortunately, I’m not on the menu. Could give you an Angel Face to make up for it though.” He tried to keep his tone light. Anger flashed momentarily in the bar goer’s dark eyes before it settled into a blank stare.

“Well that’s too bad,” he said in a tone laced with bitterness and inebriation. “Would have liked your own angel face, but sure. I’ll take that.”

Sighing at the dodged bullet, Shiro quickly tossed together gin, apricot brandy and Calvados in a glass. With a quick stir of a bar spoon, he placed the amber liquid in front of the man.

“That will be $5.” His own words sounded clipped as he left no room for the patron to continue with anymore advances. After ringing up his drink, Shiro passed his card back along with the receipt and a pen. As the man filled it out he made a mental note of his features so he could avoid serving him again that night. The way his eyes were unfocused and the way he’d slurred was enough for him to know that he didn’t need anything else from their establishment. Turning with his drink clutched to his chest and without a word, the man stumbled away from the bar and towards a table in the corner.

Grabbing the receipt and pen, Shiro noticed that the tip line graciously read “Fuck You” in place of a dollar amount.

“Classy,” he muttered under his breath as he shoved the receipt into the drawer and turned back to see a group of five walking towards him with bright smiles that quickly pushed the experience out of his mind.

Lance didn’t return until several mixed drinks later with a glassy eyes and pink cheeks, only answering Shiro’s questioning look with a waggle of his eyebrows and a tongue pressed against his cheek.

The next hour passed in a blur of alcohol and mixers as they were slammed with nonstop orders as a rush of new patrons came into the bar. Bodies mingled on the floor surrounding the poles, swaying and grinding to the beats of the music Pidge continued to control from her perch above it all. A phantom stare stayed on him as he mixed different concoctions, setting his skin ablaze with its warmth as he habitually met it from across the room. Each time he sought out Keith’s lithe form, he would be confronted with the electric tug deep in his gut, a quick flip of his heart and Hunk’s voice in his head.

_Cause of death: Pulled into space by a Starboy with no helmet._

As Keith spun slowly down the pole in a scorpion, causing Shiro’s mouth to pool, he thought that there were definitely worse ways to go. The crowd closed in around the dancer as he touched down and he saw the dollars that were clutched in fists as they descended. For a fleeting second he wondered if Keith had ever tossed the money onto a bed and rolled around on it. He bit into his lip at the image in his head as he envisioned the dancer arched against a pile of money and the comforter on his own bed.

The vision melted away as a shout loud enough to be heard over the music dragged him out of his thoughts. Lance was staring in Keith’s direction, a steely expression twisting his mouth into an angry scowl at what he saw.

“Looks like someone is getting handsy,” he said, his voice rough with discontent. Shiro followed his line of sight to see a man holding onto Keith’s bicep. In that moment, a great multitude of events occurred.

The first: The amethyst glare that pierced the man holding onto the dancer in a way that made “If looks could kill” seem more like a possibility than an idiom.

The second: Pidge’s hazel stare that left her DJ system for the first time to take in the scene. Lifting the headphones from atop her head, she quickly disappeared from the podium in which she’d resided all night.

The third: A moment of realization as Shiro recognized the man that gripped Keith to be the insufferable man from earlier.

The fourth, and final event: Shiro throwing both hands on top of the counter and vaulting himself over it and taking quick strides to close the distance that had separated himself from the scene.

His own metal hand closed around the man’s wrist and wrenched it off just as Keith’s fist flew towards his face. The force from Shiro pulling the bar patron away moved him just enough so the dancer’s punch just barely grazed his cheek. An annoyed growl erupted from Keith as his swing missed, his shoulders tensing as he readied himself to take another swipe at the man that was struggling against Shiro’s hold.

“What the fuck, man?” His words sounded as if he was pushing them through cement as he weakly pulled against the iron grip of the prosthetic that encircled his wrist. Several patrons of the bar watched the scene with curious eyes, everything happening so quickly that their alcohol riddled brains had hardly had enough time to realize what was going on. Keith’s hand flew towards the drunk man again and Shiro caught it easily with his flesh hand, his hold soft yet firm as he held onto the fist. While he also wished to throw a few punches at the man himself, he also didn’t want Keith to face the legal repercussions that would most likely occur. There was a time to pick and choose battles, and while at work with many witnesses surrounding them was a time to choose standing down.

“Are you okay?” He asked, ignoring the drunken groaning of the man in the viselike grip of his right hand and turning his attention entirely to the one in his left. The burning anger that had simmered in Keith’s eyes faded as he looked up at Shiro. His cheeks pinked from the intensity of the bartender’s stare as he nodded his head.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t ready for it is all.” His voice trailed off as he looked away. The lights that continued to spin across the dance floor sparkled against the glitter on his skin and he was hit all over again by the way it made him look as if he’d been crafted by stardust. A chink in the armor of confidence Keith had been wearing the entire night appeared as he avoided Shiro’s gaze. Standing there with his eyes fixed on the ground, he looked undeniably human in a way that made his insides lurch.

“What is going on here?” Allura’s voice was no longer light as it had been earlier when she’d spoken with Shiro as she fixed her furious aqua eyes on the man. Appearing from the back for the first time that evening with Pidge at her side, Shiro noticed that she’d changed from her crop top and jeans into a pastel bodycon dress and pumps. She looked every bit the bar owner that she was as she turned her cool rage on the man. Lance had told Shiro about tales of Allura throwing people out of the club, some that had even become legend on the strip due to the severity of her anger.

_Anyone that fucks with the family quickly learns why Allura is widely regarded as the scariest bar owner in Garrison._

The fire that burned in her eyes incinerated everything in its path as her bright pink lips were turned down as she looked between Keith and the drunken man that was shouting obscenities at the man that linked them. A moment of understanding passed over her as she put everything together.

“You are no longer welcome at Voltron.” Her words were clipped as she pointed towards the doors. She seemed to glow with her rage as her voice dropped into an even more intimidating pitch. “Please see that you do not return, or the police will become involved.”

Shiro’s grip slackened and caused the man to fall back a few steps at the sudden release that his harsh tug was met with. His dark eyes darted between him, Keith and Allura before he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and turned on his heel to head for the doors.

“Fuck this place,” he called over his shoulder before he pushed open the doors and disappeared into the night. Keith’s eyes were still fixated on his feet as Allura appraised him with worried eyes.

“Shiro, would you mind taking Keith to the bathroom to cool down for a moment?” Her tone implied it was more of an order than a request.

“Of course,” he replied with a nod, opening his hand around the dancer’s fist long enough to readjust his grip so that their fingers were intertwined instead as he pulled him towards the bathrooms hidden in the back corner behind the bar. Lance’s worried eyes watched as they pushed through the throngs of people that chattered amongst themselves and danced, having not noticed the altercation that had just occurred.

It was dark in the bathroom, the space void of any lighting outside of small pinprick lights that made up constellations in the ceiling, casting an eerie blue pallor across their skin as they entered. The modest room with three stalls was thankfully empty and Shiro flipped the lock on the main door to make sure it stayed that way. As soon as the bolt slid into place, Keith threw his back against the tile of the wall, reveling in the coolness that raised goosebumps across his heated skin.

“People can be such assholes,” he moaned as he let his head fall back with his eyes closed. Shiro admired the line of his throat in the reflection of the mirror behind him as he continued his rant.

“Like I get it, I’m a dancer. That doesn’t give you any right to touch me, dude. Fuck that, there are rules. Everyone just wants to have fun, and I have fun doing what I do, but not when dickheads like that show up thinking they’re high and mighty.”

Keith inhaled sharply through his mouth, the motion making his Adam’s apple bob.

“He’s lucky you were there, I’d have kicked his fucking ass,” he grumbled as his eyelids fluttered open and his purple orbs settled on Shiro as he side eyed him.

“Thank you, by the way. That move with the counter was hot.” The low chuckle set an eruption of butterflies loose in his stomach. Knocking a shoulder into the dancer’s gently, he joined his side against the tile. The space between their arms filled with static.

“Don’t mention it. If I’d have known you were going to beat him, I may have taken my time.” He laughed into the dark bathroom, the sound echoing off the walls and dissipating into the dull thumping of the bass from outside. Not that he would have ever admitted it, but seeing the way Keith had lashed out against the man had turned him on more than it had any right to. He was uncomfortably aware of how tight his pants currently felt and he silently thanked the universe for making the bathroom so dark. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that brilliant smile that the dancer had graced him with earlier in the night.

“So you like a boy that could kick your ass,” he said knowingly while turning the full power of his gleaming grin on him with a cocked eyebrow. Shiro shrugged noncommittally before pushing away from the wall and turning to stand in front of him.

“I plead the fifth.”

The statement earned him a throaty laugh as Keith looked up at him, his crushed velvet eyes peeking up through long lashes. A flush of heat trickled down his neck and towards his heart as he felt himself start to get sucked into the galaxy that laid in those mauve eyes. The space between them buzzed as he felt the undeniable pull towards the dancer as if he was a magnet.

“So what’s your story?” Keith asked, voice almost as thick as the air dancing around them.

“What do you mean?” Shiro shot back, his eyes dragging over the full bow of his lip. He lazily wondered what it would taste like.

“We’re a group of misfits, sure, but we all got stories as to why we’re here.” As if to elaborate on who he spoke about, Keith nodded towards the locked door, eyes never leaving Shiro as he sized him up.

“Allura inherited the place from her dads. Pidge had been adopted into their family, so now she will only DJ here though she could definitely make it big if she got her mixes out there. Hunk just loves the attention, and Lance goes wherever Hunk does. So why are you here?”

Shiro thought about it for a moment, his eyes dragging across the long lines of Keith’s body as he judged his next words carefully. He hadn’t spoken about his accident with anyone aside from Lance, but even he had only received the Sparknotes version. It hadn’t ever occurred to him that he would even want to speak with anyone about it, having grown so used to being by himself in his living room and packing his emotional trauma into the back of his mind hidden behind alcohol and binged TV. As the artificial starlight cast its alien glow on Keith’s skin, he felt a pang in his chest as the realization that he’d tell Keith anything hit him like a freight train. With a shrug, he decided to throw himself into the collision head first.

“I got in a car accident and lost my arm two years ago. It’s been a struggle getting back into the real world, and with my settlement money, I didn’t really need to.” He paused as he watched for Keith’s reaction. The dancer, to his credit, only listened intently as he nodded to urge him to continue.

“Problem was, I was beginning to rot away in my loft. I think I was depressed. Or, am depressed, since this is the first time I’ve really been out since it all happened.”

There was a pregnant pause as Keith cocked his head to the side, eyes squinting at Shiro as if he was trying to see him differently. The heat rolled off of him in waves as he stepped into the bartender’s space and dragged a finger along the scar that ran over the bridge of his nose. It was a barely there touch, soft as a butterfly’s wing as he let the pad of his finger trace the darkened and raised patch of skin. Shiro had only recently been able to start looking in the mirror without cringing at the sight of it, but as Keith appreciated the pink flesh, he thought that maybe it wasn’t as ugly as he’d thought. A moan tore free of his lips as the contact ghosted over the rise of his cheek and he felt his eyes flutter as the electric heat raised the hair on his skin. Their breath was deafening in the silence of the bathroom as Keith stared up at Shiro with a primal hunger igniting in his eyes.

“So why are you here?” Shiro asked breathily. The dancer smiled at the question as he dropped his hand to his side.

“I’m saving up for pilot school.” Keith said as he turned his eyes towards the artificial stars of the ceiling.

“I’ve always wanted to be up there. Away from the crowds and people. Just the sky and the stars stretching around me as far as I can see.” To accentuate his words, he reached up towards the constellations above them, absentmindedly tracing the outlines of Pisces and Scorpio in the illuminated pinpricks. Shiro found himself pulled closer to the dancer who stared up at the ceiling with wondrous abandon. What little space that was left between them was on fire as Keith turned his stare from the lights above to the grey eyes just inches above him.

The hand that had reached towards the sky came down to caress the hair at the nape of Shiro’s neck. His palm was flush against his skin as he pulled him ever so slightly closer, eyes timidly bowing to look Shiro’s mouth before returning to his silver gaze as if asking for permission that the bartender was all too happy to give. Their breath danced together, skittering over their lips as they paused before they went hurtling over the edge that would crash them together.

A loud bang of a fist against the bathroom door jolted them apart instead.

“C’mon man, I really need the bathroom!” A strained voice cried from the other side as one of the bar goers continued his assault on the door. Shiro’s heart pounded against the inside of his ribs as he stared at the door, willing the intruder to turn into cosmic dust. Keith’s hand gently brushed the swell of his bicep as he gave him a small smile that barely pulled up the corners of his lips. Pushing up onto his toes, he pressed a soft kiss to Shiro’s cheek, just at the edge of his scar.

It was a chaste, quick thing and yet it stole the remainder of the bartender’s senses. Almost as soon as he’d planted the kiss to his skin, he was gone, unlocking the door with a swift flick of his wrist and disappearing through it as the patron on the other side ran in.

Shiro stood alone in the dimly lit bathroom, heart stuttering and breathing labored, wondering if this was how it felt to be high in the sky amongst the stars.

**_***_ **

After an embarrassing amount of time spent in the bathroom, listening to the dulcet sounds of the cockblocking bar patron retching in an attempt to drag himself back down to Earth, Shiro finally made his way back to the bar.

“Oh thank god!” Lance cried as his best friend finally reappeared behind the bar. “You guys were in there so long I was worried I was going to need to break something up.” His blue eyes squinted at him as if trying to find some sign of what depraved act he’d thought the duo had gotten up to.

“Keith had one hell of a smile when he came out of there,” his voice was suspicious as he stepped closer, inspecting Shiro’s person. Biting back a pleased sound, Lance’s victim just shrugged.

“That’s good, means he cooled off.” The younger man’s eyes squinted further and Shiro wasn’t even sure if he could see anymore.

“Uh huh.” He didn’t sound convinced at all, but stepped back so his friend could retake his place at the helm of the bar. Though he could feel the habitual side glances from beside him as Lance attempted to pull whatever answers he thought Shiro had from his mind, the remainder of the night went without any other incidents. The rest of his shift consisted of standard drink orders now that everyone left was too drunk to think up complicated orders, and he let his mind wonder back to the twinkling stars of the bathroom lights and the man that had stared up at them.

_Just the sky and the stars stretching around me as far as I can see._

Only once did Lance need to prod him out of his daydream as he overfilled a Jack and Coke that the drink’s owner quickly offered to lap up off the bar for him.

Once the clock struck 2am, the bartending duo started to make their rounds collecting unfinished drinks and emptied glasses that littered the various flat surfaces in the bar. As Shiro flitted around the dance floor, sidestepping bodies that crashed together in time with the music and plucking drinks out of the grasps of the too far gone, he felt a pair of hungry eyes following him. Coyly looking over his shoulder, he was met with the near animalistic stare of the club’s Starboy as he leaned back against a pole, lazily swinging his hips in time with the music. A smile split Keith’s lips as he saw he’d won Shiro’s attention and he reached forward pointing a demanding finger at him before crooking it in a come hither motion.

Lance’s blue eyes filled his vision as he stepped in front of Shiro. He groaned as he tried to turn away, repressing the desire that had flared up within him.

“I am going to puke all over the both of you if you don’t stop making eyes at each other like this,” Lance barked over the music as he plucked the glasses his friend had been holding from his grasp. Ignoring the small sounds of protest he made as he went to grab them back, the brunette continued.

“You did great tonight. I’ll tell Allura you pass with flying colors. Now I’m begging you, please go dance with him so I don’t have to watch you pine from afar for two more hours.”

Shiro was staring at Lance’s back as he retreated before he was able to come up with a retort.

“Fuck you, Lance!” He yelled, no true malice in his tone as he watched his friend raise a glass filled hand high over his shoulder with the middle finger standing proud. He watched as Lance climbed back behind the bar and dropped the stack of glasses onto the counter. Seeing Shiro still standing rooted in the spot he’d left him, he made a shooing motion with his hands before he turned away to grab the trays to put the glasses into the industrial dishwasher.

Swallowing back the nerves that had suddenly shoved their way up his throat, he pushed his hands deep into his pockets and turned to the dancer that still eyed him from where he was leaning against his pole. Putting one foot in front of the other, he made his way up to him, with a shy smile.

“You off the clock?” Keith’s voice was husky was he dragged his gaze down Shiro’s body.

“Lance told me to enjoy myself since I did such a great job,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulder, reading between the lines of what his friend had really said. Lasers reflected in the mauve of Keith’s eyes as he looked up at Shiro with a smile.

“And what would make you enjoy what time we have left here at Voltron?” His voice had dipped low as he moved into the bartender’s space, dragging a hand down his chest and trailing it along his body as he circled him. As he returned to standing in front of him, Shiro’s hand settling on top of his that still pressed warmly over his heart.

“You,” was all Shiro said before he pulled on Keith’s hand so that he fell into his chest. Laughter filled his senses as the electric beats moved his limbs as he ran his hands down the naked skin of the dancer’s back, reveling in the shiver he felt run through him at the contact. Keith rubbed his nose into the space over his heart before he turned himself away so that they stood back to chest.

Agile hips ground against his as Keith raised his arms to drag his hands down the back of Shiro’s neck and chest. Throwing his head back in ecstasy, the bartender let the music run alongside the heated desire that filled his veins before everything dropped out momentarily just to come back at full force in a whirlwind of bass, lights and glitter. Staring up at the heavens, Shiro was certain that in that he could see God within the laser lights and confetti.

Drunk off the music and the heady scent of the body pressed against him, he wanted nothing more than to envelope himself completely in the man that had managed to bewitch him in just one night. Amongst the colliding bodies and falling glitter, Shiro felt as if they were floating through space in a sea of of stardust and he wasn’t sure how he’d ever wanted to be anywhere else. Dropping his head back down to the dancer that was expertly grinding against him, he found the crook of his neck, licking the sweat salted skin before teasing the skin over his pulse with his teeth. He felt Keith’s groan vibrate through him as his head fell back onto his shoulder as he relished the pleasure the bite shot straight to his core. Shiro bit and licked his way down his neck and to his shoulder where he pressed a kiss to the bone there.

With a quick spin that would have landed Shiro on his ass, Keith flipped himself around so that he was facing him. His smile was wicked and filled with starlight as he fixed his eyes on his grey ones. Reds, yellows and greens painted his skin as the lights flashed over them. Reaching up with both hands, Keith grabbed both sides of Shiro’s face and pulled him down to him in one quick motion. There wasn’t a heart stopping pause while they tested the waters of the moment this time as he crashed their lips together. After dancing around each other all night, Keith was tired of waiting and Shiro sent a silent thank you out into the universe for it.

Their teeth clicked together as they both gasped into the electric shock of the contact. The dancer’s tongue licked the back of Shiro’s teeth, taking advantage of the opening before he pushed back against it, his own tongue exploring the soft tissue of Keith’s mouth. Saliva slicked their lips as they slid across each other, readjusting their position and pace as Shiro sucked Keith’s bottom lip into his mouth and worried it between his teeth. A small sigh was his reward for the choice and he pulled back with a small pop before he pressed back against the dancer for another. Hips continued to grind together as they lost themselves within each other’s mouths, hands roaming across skin and teeth biting flesh.

Shiro was vaguely aware of the wolf whistle that pierced the music from somewhere beside them as his twisted his fingers into the hair at Keith’s neck. The soft strands tickled his hands as he pulled slightly, earning a soft keen from the raven haired man. Strong arms locked around his neck as Keith pressed upwards into the kiss once more before pulling back. His pupils were black and blown with lust as he looked up at the bartender with his crushed berry lips quirked into a smile.

They continued to dance as the night wore on, Shiro aware of the stares that watched them from the bar he’d nearly forgotten he’d been working at in the first place. He shrugged off the feeling, ignoring his friends as he let himself fall further into the violet galaxy of Keith’s eyes.

If anyone needed him, they could find him dancing among the stars.

*** ****

The lights came back on in Voltron at 4am, effectively turning it back into a pumpkin. Euphoric patrons of the bar stumbled out the doors, slurring their thank yous for another great night at the best little gay bar on the Garrison strip. As the last of them left, Allura locked the door behind them and fixed her employees with a dazzling smile and a thumbs up.

“Lance, make the usual!” She cried as Hunk and Keith disappeared behind the Employees Only door and Pidge started to dismantle her DJ equipment. Shiro felt himself admiring the confetti littered bar in the full lighting of the fluorescents. Though it was exactly the same as earlier– albeit a bit dirtier– he felt he was seeing it for the first time. There was almost something romantic about the casual disarray it had been left in after the hundreds of people had cleared out, leaving small ephemeral reminders that they had been there. He smiled to himself as he swam through the thoughts of his own romantics that the bar had brought him, his tongue dragging along his bottom lip the still tasted of a certain Starboy.

“Come sit Shiro!” Allura called, waving a hand at him to join her at a table where five other seats sat. As he joined her, the sound of the Employee Only door opening filled the now silent room as Hunk and Keith reappeared, now fully clothed. Black jeans clung to the latter’s lean frame and a simple black tank covered his chest underneath a cropped red leather jacket. The ensemble made Shiro’s heart falter before picking up in double time. The normalcy of it all somehow made the dancer look even more beautiful. Noticing his stare, Keith winked at him and swiveled his hips as he sashayed towards the table, eyes alight with laughter.

Plopping into the seat next to Shiro, he let his knee knock into the bartender’s, who pressed back into the touch.

“Hey,” Keith greeted lowly with a Cheshire cat grin as if they hadn’t been together up until the lights had come on.

“Hey,” Shiro replied breathily, his words being stolen from him all the same.

“Six Voltron Specials, just as the lady ordered!” Lance yelled as he joined them with six whiskey glasses filled with a fizzing liquid with an odd greenish hue balanced on a tray. Setting it down on the table, he dropped into the seat next to Hunk and leaned his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder. Shiro eyed the bubbling drinks suspiciously, quickly working through his mental rolodex of drink combinations that would possibly result in that coloring.

“You guys are so gross,” Pidge said as she appeared at the table in time to see Hunk press a kiss to Lance’s crown. She plopped into the final seat and set a stuffed backpack on the ground before she grabbed one of the mystery drinks.

“We’re gross?” Lance deadpanned, head never leaving Hunk’s shoulder as he addressed the table.

“Did you even see Shiro and Keith?”

Keith purred contentedly beside him and heat prickled Shiro’s cheeks as Pidge turned to face them. Eyes never leaving the pair, she took a thoughtful sip of her drink. Her scrutinizing eyes made the newcomer squirm in his seat as he felt as if she was lifting every memory he’d made that night straight from his brain with her golden eyes. Finally, she set her now half empty glass down and winked at them.

“Yeah, but it was his first time and he was with Starboy. He didn’t stand a chance,” she laughed, the sound more boisterous than he thought someone so small would be capable of. It was an infectious thing that pulled the edges of his mouth up against his will and he soon found himself smiling against his own will.

“Leave Shiro alone, you guys,” Allura chastised, grabbing two glasses and setting one in front of him. Keith, Hunk and Lance followed suit, each grabbing a cup of the fizzing green drink. A faint tangy scent filled his nose from the liquid that sat just before him.

“Lance said you did great.” Her aquamarine eyes were bright pools as she fixed them on him. “And I really do think you’d be a great fit with the team. So if you’d be interested, we would love to have you join us here at Voltron.”

Keith’s knee bounced against his as she spoke, creating a buzzing friction that nearly distracted him from the job offer.  Five pairs of curious eyes waited for his answer as he attempted to make his tongue move.

The answer was obvious and sat on the tip of his tongue. The small, three letter word would be so easy to utter. Voltron had worked its way under his skin, touching him with its magic and leaving its invisible mark on his flesh. Phantom fingers traced their way up and down the roadway of his veins, leading sparks through his blood. A hand slid over the hill of his knee as Keith give the limb a gentle squeeze that lit the skin there on fire. Flashing a smile at the dancer, he turned to Allura.

“I would love to become a part of Voltron.”

Allura squealed excitedly, bouncing in her seat and clapping her hands together with glee. Her silver hair danced around her with the motion as if it was defying gravity.

“This is great news!” She cried, grabbing her glass of green and lifting it towards the rest of the table in a salute. Each member seated around the table raised their own one-by-one, leaving Shiro for last as he judged the sickly looking liquid. Hesitantly– after an encouraging smile from Lance– he raised it to his new coworkers.

“To Voltron!” Allura cheered. “Where the drinks are cheap–”

“– And the entertainment is expensive!” Her team finished as they tipped back the drink, swallowing it down in one swift gulp. Without knowing what it was, he downed the liquid in the glass only to be met with a nauseatingly sweet and weirdly sour taste. He spluttered against the carbonation that rose in his nose, earning laughter from around the table. A hand patted gently against his back.

“It’s like that for everyone the first time,” Keith laughed as he continued to rub the space between Shiro’s shoulder blades as he tried to regain his breath. If Shiro was being honest, the soft touch wasn’t helping, the pulses of desire stealing the air from his lungs almost as soon as he’d sucked it in.

“You try to kill all the new hires?” He gasped once he’d managed to form words.

“It’s just Monster and Red Bull, Shiro, don’t be a baby.” Lance fixed his blue gaze on the pair, watching the way Keith’s hand still stroked gently across his friend’s back. Grey eyes caught his from across the table and he flicked his tongue out at him before waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Shiro’s eyes rolled upwards towards the heavens before he smiled back.

“Allura thinks we all need a shot of energy before leaving so no one dies on the way home.” Pidge’s voice was matter-of-fact as she pushed her glasses up on her nose.

“It’s a nice gesture once you get past the fact it will most likely be the reason we all die of kidney failure in a few years.”

Shiro chuckled as he leaned back into Keith’s touch, giving him a small thankful smile as he did so.

“At least we’ll all go down together,” Allura laughed her laugh of tinkling bells. “Now, one last order of business before we go. Shiro’s new name.”

A blinding smile filled with mischief and mayhem broke across Lance’s face as he nearly jumped out of his seat. Shiro knew that smile all too well and braced himself for what would undoubtedly end with him as the butt of a joke.

“I took it upon myself to make this horribly difficult decision.” His voice was dramatic as he stood and placed a hand over his heart. “After an arduous elimination process and many close calls, I have decided on…”

Pausing for dramatic effect, Lance drummed his hands against the table top in a poor imitation of a drumroll. Hunk groaned as he hid behind one of his palms with a shake of his head.

“I’m so sorry he’s like this,” Shiro heard him grumble.

“Sugartits!” He proclaimed, waving a hand towards his best friend’s chest as if he were Vanna White. “He may even be bigger than you are, Princess.”

A moment passed as the table turned to compare, eyes flickering between him and Allura, sizing them up as they did so and causing him to feel the urge to cross his arms over his chest. Finally, they all nodded in silent agreement as Shiro wondered if it was too late to rescind his acceptance. Standing from her own seat, Allura waved her hand over his person.

“I hereby christen you, Sugartits.” Her voice brimmed with pride as she carefully tapped the hand on either of his shoulders. “Welcome to the family.”

A small bud of euphoria bloomed in his chest at the word as the rest of the Voltron employees uttered their own welcomes.

“Now if you could all kindly get to where you need to be, it is getting late.” Laughter erupted around the group as Allura shooed them towards the door as she and Pidge headed into the back of the bar for final closing preparations. Lance offered a hand to Hunk, lacing their fingers together and he pulled him out of his chair with a smile.

“I’ll see you later, buddy,” the brunette called over his shoulder as the pair walked hand-in-hand towards the exit. As they disappeared through the blacked out glass, Shiro fixed his gaze on Keith.

“Where are you headed to?” The dancer asked, his devilish smile playing a fiddle with the strings of his heart.

“Probably just going to go home,” he said lamely, scratching the back of his head self consciously and delighting in the way Keith’s eyes flickered towards the patch of skin the was revealed at the hem of his shirt by the movement.

“I have a very comfortable bed that I cheated on tonight by being here.”

The joke earned him a loud bark of laughter.

“Tell your bed I’m sorry,” Keith chuckled. Shiro knocked his shoulder against his with his own answering laugh.

“What about you?” He asked. Tapping a finger against his nose, Keith thought about his answer for a moment. His eyes grew distant as they sparkled under the unnatural fluorescent lighting.

“I think I’ll watch the sunrise.” He finally said as he painted Shiro with the purple of his gaze.

“Probably won’t be getting to bed anytime soon anyway thanks to Allura’s death drink, so might as well.”

A silence spread between them as they both waited for the other to say the inevitable goodbye that neither wanted to utter first. The thrum of excitement from the night still tickled Shiro’s veins, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for it to end just yet. The corners of Keith’s mouth began to pull upwards as he finally broke the silence.

“Hey, Sugartits?” He said, laughter coloring his tone as he voice wrapped around Shiro’s new nickname. “If you don’t have anywhere to go, want to grab a coffee and watch the sunrise?”

The vision of his couch and his Netflix account flashed across his mind’s eye as he smiled to himself. With a small shake of his head, he reached his hand out towards Keith, who gently laced their fingers together as they walked followed the path of their friends to the exit. Shiro sent out a silent “See you later” to the bar before he turned to the dancer at his side. He counted the galaxies that swirled in Keith’s eyes as he looked up at him.

“Sounds like a date, Starboy.”

**_***************************_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! ODM here, I'm doing a 12 Days of Christmas thing where I'm taking 12 prompts that I will post December 14-December 25! Completely free, minimum of 1k words, will write any pairing and any prompt with just a few rules in place. It will be dedicated to you and you'll even receive a digital copy! (Of course, you can remain anonymous too.)
> 
> Check out the information on [Tumblr!](https://theolddarkmachine.tumblr.com/post/166044384257/help-odm-needs-you) Deadline for prompts is 10/31 :)


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